


something borrowed, something new

by kon_anima



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: ??? Sorta, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bruce Wayne is Trying, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Gen, He Gets a Hug, Jason Todd Has Mental Health Issues, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Young Jason Todd, back at it again with my overuse of italics, fuck canon my canon now, he also mentally compares dick and jason but not in an unhealthy way, he blames himself for dickk leaving... as he should, he messed up bad with dick, he wasn’t but now he’s rly rly trying to be, little jason has therapy with leslie bc THERAPY IS IMPORTANT FOR ABUSED AND NEGLECTED KIDS, no beta we die like yj wally, specifically anger issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26245021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kon_anima/pseuds/kon_anima
Summary: Bruce never expected Jason, but that doesn’t mean he can’t learn how to handle him.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne
Comments: 5
Kudos: 150





	something borrowed, something new

**Author's Note:**

> welcome back to me, projecting my issues onto jason

_Curly hair, tattered skin, hazel eyes, freckles and dimples._

The framed photos around the Manor from nine years ago, always neat, dusted and polished, showed the complete opposite.

_Cut-up knees, a daring glint, lopsided grins, a sharp tongue with a heavy Gotham lilt and the language of a sailor to go with it._

It was completely unlike what he was used to.

No, Jason wasn’t planned.

Bruce never expected Jason.

He was still here, though. It wasn’t as if Bruce regretted it — what he would have regretted was letting such a small, feisty _child_ who grew up far too soon continue to hold his own on the _streets_ — but that didn’t mean he was completely sure of what to do.

Jason was everything that Dick wasn’t, and vice versa. 

Where Dick was smiles and delighted giggles, Jason is smirks and mocking snickers. Where Dick was encouragement and optimism, Jason is defeatist, already seeing all the horrors the world had to offer.

They were nothing alike, and Bruce hadn’t expected it.

But, that didn’t mean he couldn’t learn.

* * *

Of course, Dick had gotten angry when he was young. He had quite the temper that only showed when he was pushed _too far and too hard_ , but it was exploding when it finally appeared. He’d yell, he’d cry, he’d stomp up to his room and slam his door with a loud _boom_ and that would be the end of it.

Jason didn’t just yell, he screamed and shrieked, cursed at the top of his lungs until his voice broke on each syllable and croaked, until his throat grew raw and throbbed. He didn’t just walk away with a pout, he threw vases and kicked and clawed. And he only cried at the very end, when he wore himself out, panting and shaking and hiding himself in a far corner.

Bruce never approached Dick when he was angry. He never went to the door and knocked after a cooling off period to talk it out. After a while, Dick would just come out of his room, saunter down to the cave, and it seemed as if it all fizzled out. He wouldn’t bring up why he was angry in the first place, wouldn’t apologize or ask for an apology — he’d simply return to normal, as if nothing had happened.

And Bruce only realized, years later, that it was a bad thing. It wasn’t just a temper tantrum that sorted itself out, it was Dick holding it in and pretending to be fine and slowly, but surely, distancing himself from Bruce.

Now, he was gone. Their last argument, the last time they spoke to each other, had been the most explosive one yet, and it was as if all of the years of Dick just forgetting about it, just going back to normal, bursted out of him with venom and clenched fists.

So, Bruce knows that, even if it means getting more punches and screeches, he has to approach Jason before the same thing happens to him, and he’s gone just like Dick.

Jason’s currently at the end of his rage. He’s breathing hard and trembling hard. His knuckles are bruised and scattered around him is shattered glass, scuff marks on tables and chairs that are now laying on their sides on the floor. His eyes are closed tight, and his fingers are pulling at his own hair.

Bruce’s first instinct is to yell back, tell him he’s grounded and to go to his room.

He doesn’t, though.

Slowly, as if approaching a frightened and injured animal, he approaches. Once he’s close enough, he sinks down on one knee. Even at that, he still towers over Jason’s small frame, and it makes a part of his heart ache.

“Jason.”

Jason’s squeezing his eyes tighter, pulling his hair harder. There aren’t any tears on his cheeks, not yet, and he’s grinding his teeth behind swollen and bitten lips. “Go away.”

His breath is coming out fast, fast and faster, and it’s close to hyperventilating. Bruce doesn’t budge. “Breathing exercise, Jason.”

This earns him a swift kick to the shin, and then another, and another from alternating feet. “Fuck you, _fuck you,_ _**fuck you!**_ ”

 _Language_ , Bruce doesn’t say.

Bruce takes the kicks, letting Jason get out his last bit of energy. Then, he places a hand on his own chest and takes a deep breath before letting it out. “One, two. In, out. Copy that, Jason.”

Jason’s grinding his teeth so hard that they look as though they could break, small whimpers coming out of his mouth as the ends of his eyelashes begin to dampen. “No.”

“One, two.” Bruce repeats, breathing deep and slow again. “In, out.”

Jason bites off a cry as he slowly, shakily, attempts to copy Bruce.

It takes a few times until he’s got it down, and by then, his nose is red, his cheeks are red and there are big, flowing tears dropping off of his chin and onto his shirt every other second. 

When Jason opens his eyes on the last steady breath, he’s grimacing and crying openly.

Bruce takes the chance and pulls him into his chest, and Jason crumbles.

Bruce lets him sob, wipe his face onto his suit and sob some more. Between his shudders, he’s apologizing over and over, still clawing and kicking weakly, but this time without the intention to hurt, the emotion just too strong for him to handle. He’s shaking his head and biting his lip, pushing his face as far into Bruce’s chest as he can, the pressure of it relieving some of his tension.

“It’s okay,” Bruce is mumbling into Jason’s hair, rocking back and forth slightly. “It’s okay, son. You’re okay.”

Eventually, Jason’s sobs dim and die down. He’s still crying, still red and snotty and looking torn, and he sags down against Bruce now, exhausted.

“My head hurts.” He mumbles, scrubbing his fists into his eyes. His sniffles sound clogged, and Bruce grabs his handkerchief from his back pocket, wiping down Jason’s face and letting him blow his nose. His skin is hot and his hands begin to absently pick at Bruce’s suit, keeping themselves occupied.

“I know,” Bruce’s tone is gentle, far more gentle than he’s used to. He discards the handkerchief in the mess around them. It’s not important right now. “Do you want me to call Leslie?”

Jason stifles a yawn, and then coughs from the scratching pain in his throat. “Tomorrow.”

Bruce gently scoops him up, letting him rest his head on a broad shoulder, stepping around the broken glass and thrown furniture and making his way to the staircase. Once Jason’s tucked into bed with a glass of water on is nightstand, he’ll take care of everything else. _It’s not important right now._

“Okay. Tomorrow.”

* * *

Where Dick was faking smiles and forcing laughs, Jason is writing in mood journals and ranting to his therapist whenever he needed it. Where Dick was leaving at eighteen and refusing contact ever again, Jason is still here and still within reach.

In reality, Dick hadn’t been expected, either. He’d just been easier to handle, easier to calm, easier to push away.

Bruce doesn’t regret either of them. 

He only regrets letting Dick suffer in silence, not noticing when he needed help, not helping in time before he’d left.

Now, he has to make sure he doesn’t regret the same thing with Jason.

Bruce wasn’t expected either of them, and he knows, deep down, that he’s already royally screwed up, but now, he’s willing to learn, willing to help, willing to listen instead of ignore and push, push, push.

Dick and Jason are different in every way, but they’re also the same.

Bruce won’t make the same mistake twice.

**Author's Note:**

> my anger issues are now under control but i still remember how awful it felt to be in a bad rage poor bby jay :(((((


End file.
